‘But she's
intelligent，’said Billy Smallbury，‘and must have some common sense. ’

‘It seems her old uncle's furniture wasn't good enough
for her，’said the maltster‘I hear she's bought new beds，chairs and a piano！If
she's
a farmer，why does she want a piano？ ’

Just
then they heard a heavy footstep outside，and a voice called，‘Neighbours，can I
bring a few lambs in there？’

‘Of course，shepherd，’they all replied.

Gabriel
appeared in the doorway，his cheeks red and his healthy face shining. On his
shoulders were four half－dead lambs，which he put down carefully，close to the
fire.

‘I haven't
got a shepherd's
hut here，as I used to have at Norcombe，’he explained. ‘These new lambs would
die if I couldn't
keep them warm for a while. It's
very kind of you，maltster，to let me bring them in here. ’

‘We've
been talking of the mistress，and her strange behaviour，shepherd，’said the
maltster.

‘What have you been saying about her？’asked Gabriel sharply，turning
to the others. ‘I suppose you've been speak- ing against her？’he
added angrily to Joseph Poorgrass.

‘No，no，not a word，’said Joseph，trembling and blushing with terror.

‘well，look here，neighbours. ’Gabriel，although normally one of the
quietest and most gentle men on earth，had sudden－ly become aggressive. ‘The
first man I hear saying anything bad about our mistress will receive this in
his face，’and he banged his great heavy hand down on the maltster's table.

‘Now don't
get so angry，shepherd，and sit down！’said Jacob.

‘We hear you're
a very clever man，shepherd，’added Joseph Poorgrass from behind the maltster's bed，where he
had been hiding. ‘We all wish we were as clever as you，don't we，neighbours？’There
was general agreement.

‘I think mistress ought to have made you her farm manager，you're so suitable
for the job，’continued Joseph. He could see that Gabriel was no longer angry.

‘I don't
mind confessing I was hoping to be her farm man－ ager，’said Gabriel in his
honest way. ‘But Miss Everdene can do as she likes，and she's chosen to
manage her own farm—and keep me as an ordinary shepherd only. ’He sounded
rather depressed，and looked sadly into the fire.

Before
anyone could reply，the door opened and Mr Bold－ wood came in. He greeted them
all and handed the letter to Gabriel.

‘I opened this by mistake，Oak，’he said，‘but it must be for you. I'm sorry. ’

‘Oh，it doesn't
matter at all，’answered Gabriel，who had no secrets from anyone. He read this
letter：

Dear
friend，

I
don't
know your name，but I want to thank you for your kindness to me on the night I
left Weatherbury. I'm
also returning the money you gave me. I'm happy to say I'm going to marry
the young man who has been courting me， Sergeant Troy. As he is a nobleman's son，I know he
wouldn't
like me to accept a gift from anyone. Please don't tell anyone about my
marriage. We intend to surprise Weatherbury by arriuing there as husband and
wife，very soon. Thank you again.

Fanny
Robin.

‘You'd
better read it，Mr Boldwood，’said Gabriel. ‘It's from Fanny Robin. She
wants to keep this a secret but I know you're interested in her. I
met her on my way to Weather- bury，but I didn't know then who she
was. ’ When Mr Boldwood had finished reading the letter，he looked very serious.
‘Poor Fanny！’he said. ‘I don't
think this Sergeant Troy will ever marry her. He's clever，and handsome，but
he can't
be trusted. What a silly girl Fanny is！’

‘I'm
very sorry to hear that，’said Gabriel.

‘By the way，Oak，’said Mr Boldwood quietly，as he and the shepherd left
the malthouse together，‘could you tell me whose writing this is？’He showed
Gabriel the envelope containing the valentine.

Gabriel
looked at it，and said simply，‘Miss Everdene’s. ’Then he realized that Bathsheba
must have written to Mr Boldwood without signing her name，and he looked，puzzled，
at the farmer.

Mr
Boldwood replied rather too quickly to Gabriel's unspo－ ken question. ‘It's quite normal
to try to discover who has written the——valentine. That's the——fun of it. ’There
was no fun at all in his manner. ‘Goodbye，Oak，’he added，and walked slowly back
to his empty house.

A
few days later，in the town north of Weatherbury where the soldiers were staying，a
wedding was arranged As the church clock in the square struck half-past eleven，a
handsome young soldier marched into the church and spoke to the vicar Then he
stood still in the centre of the church，waiting for his bride. The church was
full of the women and girls who had at－ tended the morning service and had
decided to wait to see the wedding. They watched the young man's straight back，whis－
pering among themselves. The soldier waited without moving a muscle. The church
clock struck a quarter to twelve，and still the bride did not come. The whispers
stopped，and there was silence. The young man stood as stiff and straight as the
church columns around him. There was a little quiet laughter from some of the women，but
soon they were silent again，waiting for the end.

As
the church clock struck twelve，they listened to the heavy notes ringing out
from the church tower. The vicar left his position near the soldier，and
disappeared into a back room. Every woman in the church was waiting to see the
young man's
face，and he knew it. At last he turned，and marched bravely back the way he had
come，through the rows of smiling women.

When
he got outside and crossed the square，he met a girl hurrying towards the
church. When she saw him，the anxiety on her face changed to terror.

‘Well’？’he said，staring coldly at her.

‘Oh Frank，I made a mistake！I thought it was the other church，he one
near the market，and I waited there till a quarter to twelve，and then I realized
my mistake. But it doesn't
matter，because we can just as easily get married tomorrow. ’

‘You're
a fool，to play games with me！’he replied angrily.

‘So shall we get married tomorrow，Frank？’she asked，not understanding
how seriously she had offended him.‘Tomorrow！’he repeated，and laughed. ‘I don't want another
experience like that for a while，I can promise you！’